


North Star

by coggs



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Gen, Immigration & Emigration, New York Islanders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-03
Updated: 2014-04-03
Packaged: 2018-01-18 01:35:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1410118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coggs/pseuds/coggs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first sport Kyle ever loves is cricket.</p>
            </blockquote>





	North Star

**Author's Note:**

> Reading [this](http://islanders.nhl.com/club/news.htm?id=585785) article made me think about how Kyle may have taught his parents about what hockey is. Thus, this story and all the second generation immigration feelings within.
> 
> Thanks to [four_right_chords](http://archiveofourown.org/users/four_right_chords/pseuds/four_right_chords) for editing and puzzling over the title with me.
> 
> I'm on [Tumblr](http://thecoggs.tumblr.com/), feel free to say hi.

The first sport Kyle ever loves is cricket.

It starts when Kyle is 4 and wakes up early on the weekends because, like his dad, he’s a morning person. They always let his mom sleep in, his dad picking him up from his room and carrying him to the kitchen to make breakfast. Kyle knows other kids watch cartoons on Saturday mornings - just like how other kids get to eat cereal with sugar instead of oatmeal - but instead, his dad turns the TV to the special channels he buys to watch cricket.

Kyle's dad teaches him that cricket is quiet - even the people on the TV don't make noise - so Kyle can only ask questions when no play is happening. But in between innings, Kyle learns about India and Pakistan, and centuries, and what it means to “have the ashes.” For his birthday his dad buys him his own bat and ball and spends hours teaching him how to bowl, how to hold his bat. How to protect the wicket.

Then he starts school, and when he tries to talk to people about cricket, no one knows what it is. And Kyle doesn't know anything about the Vikings.

He doesn't stop watching cricket with his dad, but he does stop talking about it.

* * *

The first sport Kyle ever plays in soccer.

"That's wrong," his dad says, driving him to practice. "It's football. Soccer? Pfft." But Kyle knows that football means purple and gold and pads, not shorts and no hands and dribbling. He doesn't think his dad is wrong, but he's not sure he's right either. 

Kyle isn't very good at soccer and he doesn't care all that much about it, but he likes playing with his friends and eating pizza afterwards. He also likes watching games with his dad. They don't watch as many as they do cricket games, but they get the Premier League, and his dad wakes him up to watch every game when Nigeria makes it to the World Cup. 

Kyle likes soccer. He just doesn't like playing it. 

One day he and his mom drive by an indoor skating rink after soccer practice and kids are walking out of it, carrying skates and sticks and bumping into each other. They’re all smiling and laughing, some knocking their sticks together like they’re sword fighting. Kyle knows about hockey, but he didn't know kids could play it. 

"Mom," he asks, dropping the soccer ball he was holding and pointing at the kids walking happily to their cars. "Can I try that instead?"

* * *

There's a huge snowstorm in October when Kyle is 7. None of the trees are ready for winter and so they fall all over the city, onto cars and streets and transformers. Everything goes dark. The next day he and his dad go out on to the lawn to look at the damage. There are branches everywhere, lying in the street and covered with snow and ice.

Kyle’s dad is kicking snow off the stairs. Kyle picks up a chunk of ice and tosses it at a tree. "Did this ever happen when you were a kid, Dad?"

His dad shakes his head and smiles. "Where I'm from, there's no ice in trees. Just snakes."

Kyles looks up at the trees that are left standing and imagines them full of snakes. " _Snakes_?" 

His dad laughs a short quick laugh and puts his hand on Kyle's hat. "Yes, snakes. Ice is probably safer."

Kyle nods. Ice can't bite you. 

"C'mon," his dad says, grabbing a small stick. "Let's build a snowman."

* * *

Kyle teaches his dad to skate when he's 10.

Kyle is good at hockey. Kyle loves hockey. He loves how fast he feels on skates, faster than he ever felt running after a soccer ball. He loves the way everything sounds, loves the he can see his breath when it's cold out. Hockey is his favorite thing. It’s better than the mac and cheese his mom makes, better than rides at the State Fair … better than everything.

His mom and dad come to every game he plays, but he has to spend weeks explaining the rules to them, diagramming icing and checking with salt and pepper shakers. Now his team is having Family Skate Day at the local rink, and his mom's out of town and his dad _can't skate_.

"There wasn't a lot of ice in Abuja," is all his dad says, with a shrug and a small smile. "So it never really came up."

"I can teach you!" Kyle insists. "I can't be the only kid without a parent skating. Let me teach you."

So they go to the nearest outdoor rink and Kyle does a few laps, getting a feel for the rough spots, while his dad ties his skates. 

"Are you sure I can't just watch you?" his dad yells from the stands. "You're so fun to watch."

"C'mon," Kyle yells back, and watches his dad stand on shaky legs, walk gingerly out to the ice, and fall immediately. Kyle skates over as fast as he can. "Are you okay?" he asks, holding out a hand and helping pull his dad up.

His dad shakes his head. "I will never understand how you can do that so fast." 

Kyle grins and then, holding his dad's hand, takes him around the ice.

His dad ends up walking unsteadily for the first lap, getting a feel for the skates and steadfastly refusing to glide or do anything but stay upright. After fifteen minutes of this, Kyle has managed to coax him into trying to actually _skate_.

"Just ... bend your legs! And then pull yourself back!" His dad shakes his head, tries, and almost falls. "C'mon Dad, you can do this!" 

His dad grips Kyle's hand extra hard. "I'm not so sure I can." 

Kyle spins around in front of him so he's skating backwards and holding both his dad's hands. "One more try, please?"

His dad gets it this time and they do a whole lap around the ice, with Kyle holding his hands for all of it. "Enough," his dad finally says, throwing his hands up. "You can skate more, but I'm going to sit." Kyle does wants to skate more, but his dad looks tired, and he has practice tomorrow anyway. 

"No, you did good. We can go."

On the way home, his dad takes them to his favorite coffee shop and gets himself a tea and Kyle the biggest hot chocolate, with lots of whipped cream. "For being such a good teacher," he says when he sets it on the table.

* * *

Kyle convinces his parents to send him to boarding school when he's 13. He made a long list of arguments why he should be allowed to go, why it'll help his hockey, why it'll improve his grades, but it turns out the only thing his parents are worried about is the money, but they promise him that if he gets any scholarships they’ll find a way to make it work.

"I left home for school too," his dad says when they're dropping him off. "It made me the person I am today."

"I know," Kyle says, dumping another bag in his new room. "You told me all this before."

"Yes," his dad says. "But I wasn't able to go home when I left. You are. Don't be a stranger." He gives Kyle a hug and then steps aside so that his mom can give him a giant, crushing hug. 

"I love you, bunny," she says one last time. His dad hands her his handkerchief as they keave, and Kyle watches her dab her eyes.

* * *

When Kyle is 18 he's the USHL Rookie of the Year and he gets in to college. His granny Skypes him about both.

"I'm so proud of you," she says. She's sitting on the porch of her house and there's green in the background. Green and animals that Kyle doesn't even know making noises. He's in Minnesota, and even though it's April, it snowed the day before.

"You're doing such wonderful things," his granny continues, face close to the camera because she can't see well. "And I'm so glad you're going to go to college. Education is so important." Kyle wants to make the NHL more than he wants to finish college, but basically everyone in his family has at least a Master’s degree. He knows it’s important, even if it’s not as important to him as hockey.

“Thanks Granny,” he says, and then as loudly and clearly as possible, “I love you.”

* * *

The first thing Kyle does when he gets to New York City is send his dad a postcard of the Statue of Liberty. He doesn’t write anything on the back, just sticks it in the mail. 

The second thing he does is research what satellite channels Nigeria has that will show the NHL. There is just one, so he spends a fairly large amount of money getting it for his granny. 

The third thing he does is email his entire family the first promotional photos the Islanders take of him - him standing on the ice with his stick, him skating, all of them. 

_Can’t wait for you to see me play._


End file.
